


Not Forgotten Here At Your Table

by pedromiamor



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Forehead Kisses, Idiots in Love, M/M, all is well, and a very ugly cake, it’s javi’s birthday, soft, steve makes him dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29459955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pedromiamor/pseuds/pedromiamor
Summary: Javier wasn't going to say anything. He didn't need to. He just wanted to sit on his couch with his whiskey and old leftovers (just like every other night) and enjoy his birthday all the same. Then Steve called.
Relationships: Steve Murphy/Javier Peña
Comments: 17
Kudos: 31





	Not Forgotten Here At Your Table

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beautifulmp3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulmp3/gifts).



> because I love you and am still feeling sappy
> 
> I'll send you flowers <3

Steve had been relatively quiet to Javier all day. 

He came in, said good morning, then ventured off to the watered down pot of cheap coffee. He came back with a mug for Javier and kept refilling it whenever he noticed it was empty. 

Steve would also hold the door open for Javier whenever they passed through rooms, and offer to light his cigarette whenever he brought one to his lips. He even gave him the last few bites of the pecan pie he'd brought for lunch. When Javier let out a frustrated sigh, Steve told him to go have a cigarette outside with a promise that he'd deal with the tip line for a while. He came back to a glass full of honeyed whiskey sitting on his desk. 

Steve had been extra smiley throughout the day as well. Every time Javier looked at him he had this little curve on his lips that made his heart warm. He kept feeling his eyes on him too. Those blue depths he just wanted to drown in. They'd watch him as he scribbled things down on slips of paper or whenever he bit the tip of his pen. "Why do you keep starin' at me Murphy?" he'd asked with his nose deep in a file. His eyes were scanning the page. He didn't see Steve blush. 

"I'm not." 

Javier wasn't opposed to Steve's good spirits or the nervous joy he seemed to exude. He liked it when Steve acted this way. He liked it when Steve gave him attention. It made his stomach fill up with butterflies and his heart to beat just a tad faster in his chest. A happy Steve equaled an even happier Javier.

"Are you doing anything tonight?" Steve had asked later in the day. Javier's breath caught in his throat and he'd almost forgotten how to breath. Sure they'd asked each other this question so many times during their time together. They'd even gone out to drinks on several occasions. Something in the tone of Steve's voice and the way that little smile crept up to crinkle his eyes made the question seem more intimate than either of them were used to.

"Just sitting in my apartment with my whiskey as company," he sighed, "why?"

Steve just shrugged. "Just making conversation." Javier had frowned at that and the bubble in his stomach went away. He was hoping Steve would've asked him to do something tonight. "Hey, do you mind if I head home early? I got some shit to take care of and it's been dead here all day."

Javier was taken aback by the question. It was only barely past three o'clock. "You don't have to ask me for permission. I'm not your boss Murphy."

"I know," he said, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it. See you tomorrow." Steve had thrown on his jacket and left, leaving Javier in a sort of melancholic pool for the remainder of the work day.

So here Javier sits. Alone in his apartment on his musty couch with a cigarette between his lips and a glass of whiskey in his hand. 

He didn’t tell anyone that today was his birthday. He didn’t need to. He didn’t want to. Javier never grew up with much celebration anyway so making a big deal of it now had seemed like such a childish idea to him. He just wanted to wallow on his couch with his loneliness, his pity, the bottle of whiskey on his table, and the leftovers in his fridge from a few days ago. That might’ve seemed like a pretty shitty way to spend your birthday night to anyone else, but it was just enough for Javier. 

He groans when the phone rings from the opposite wall of where he’s sat. He doesn’t want to answer it or even get up. He just wants to be alone. Pretty soon the ringing gets loud enough to poke at Javier’s nerves, so he reluctantly gets up to answer it. “What?” he speaks into the receiver. 

“Javi,” of course it’s Steve, “listen I need you to come up here and help me with something. It’s urgent.”

“Murph-” but the line clicks. Javier frowns and mutters, “Fucking Christ.” He leaves his apartment in a hurry, not even bothering to shut anything off or drink his whiskey, as he locks the door and practically runs up the stairs. He walks through Steve’s front door without a knock. “What do you-” he stops when he sees Steve leaning against his table with his arms crossed over his chest. The table is set, and Javier smells something otherworldly. “What...?”

Steve just smiles at him. “Why don’t you come sit and help me eat this food.”

Javier feels nervous. “What are we having?”

“I’ve got chicken pesto and garlic bread. There’s also dessert for later but that’s a surprise.”

“Did you make it?”

Steve smiles at him again. “Why do you think I left work so early?”

Javier goes to sit in the chair Steve has pulled out for him and looks at the spread before him. There are little candles lining the outside edge of the table emitting soft glows. A skinny vase with a single orchid sits off to the side next to an unopened bottle of red wine. The small plate of garlic bread sits in the middle between two bigger plates loaded with noddles and the chicken, a small portion of parmesan-ed asparagus on the side. Javier finds himself swallowing a rather large lump forming in his throat as he thinks about how much more romantic this setting feels than all their previous nights eating dinner together. “Why did you...”

He trails off into silence as a calloused hand reaches up toward his cheek. Javier almost gasps at the touch of the warm rough skin against his face. He flicks his eyes to meet Steve’s, almost holding his breath. Steve’s eyes are so blue with warmth and much more vivid than the ones he dreams of at night. His other hand comes up to brush down Javier’s disheveled hair and then it just stays there, taunting and electrifying. Steve leans forward slightly and places a featherlight kiss to the corner of Javier’s brow. It’s so soft and gentle that he barely even feels it on his skin, but he misses it immediately when Steve pulls away. “Happy birthday Javi.”

Javier watches Steve sit in his own chair with a furrowed brow and his mouth hanging slightly open. He knows his face is flushed, and he wants to say something but his brain has completely melted. The skin where Steve’s lips just were is warm and tingling, and the air around his face where those hands just were has suddenly turned cold. His throat feels dry. “Birthday,” he manages. 

“Yes Javi. It’s your birthday,” he replies picking up his fork.

“You...?”

“Eat your food Peña.” 

Javier eats his food in a relative silence. He keeps glancing up at Steve and seeing the other man quickly look away from him. “How did you know it was my birthday?” he finally asks. It’s a miracle he can actually speak now. 

Steve shrugs. “I’m pretty sure it’s part of the best friend description that I know your birthday.” Javier’s breath catches in his throat and he sets the piece of bread that was halfway to his mouth down. He doesn’t know what to say or how to react to that. Steve thinks of him as his best friend and Javier feels like such a sap with the way that makes his heart flutter. “I mean,” Steve coughs, “I wrote it down last year when you mentioned it so I could remember.” 

Javier sees the red in Steve’s face when he realizes what he said. His eyes turn soft and he smiles. “I’m your best friend?”

Steve let’s out a small laugh and stands suddenly. “How about some wine? I should probably pour some.”

Javier listens to Steve rummaging around his cabinet for the wine glasses he forgot to set out. He feels lighter now and even a bit bashful. Javier was never one to form any sort of strong relationship with anyone back home or even Colombia. He hardly even trusted anyone. He knew that he trusted Steve, even liked him, and always thought of him as a true friend. 

Steve returns with the wine glasses and goes about opening the bottle. Javier notices his fingers are trembling. He reaches out for the neck of the bottle, closing a hand around Steve’s, and lifts it from the table. Steve looks at him with confusion. “Your hands are shaking. I can pour it.” He takes the bottle from Steve’s hand, lingering his touch on the other’s skin, and pours them each a glass. “Steve,” he says when the other tries returning to his seat. 

Steve faces Javier again. He looks embarrassed. Javier reaches out for his hands and places them back on his face in the same place as when he first kissed his brow. He gives Steve a pleading look and points to his forehead. The twitch of his lips shows Javier he’s trying to hold back a smile as he leans forward to press a firm kiss to the middle of his forehead. Javier sighs at the touch and whispers, “You’re my best friend too you know.” He feels the lips on his forehead smile briefly. 

“Eat your food.”

They’re in a comfortable silence again for a while until Javier realizes something. “That’s why you were being nice to me all day. Because you knew it was my birthday.”

Steve gives him a fake sad look. “I’m always nice to you.” 

“No. You were extra thoughtful today. Thank you for that. For this.” 

The smile on Steve’s face is heartwarming. “I wanted you to have a good day. It’s no trouble trying to make you happy Javi.”

“Well if you keep cooking me food like this then it most certainly won’t be any trouble.”

Steve’s face lights up. “Really? You liked it?”

“Best damn chicken pesto I’ve ever had.” Javier wouldn’t call himself biased, but he’d never even had chicken pesto before in his life. The way Steve smiled made it not matter. 

“Do you want dessert?” 

“Bring it on.”

Steve clears the table of their dinner and dumps all the dishes into the sink. He returns with a small chocolate cake. It’s completely uneven on all the sides and the chocolate frosting is more lumpy in some spots than others. It looks like a kid baked it. “You made me a cake?” he asks with wide eyes. 

“Well, I tried to,” he says setting the cake on the table, “the recipe was in Spanish so I had to ask someone I found in the hall to translate it for me. I obviously can’t decorate either but I know you love chocolate so I just went with it.” Javier’s silent with his eyes trained on Steve. His face is flushed and he’s fidgeting with his hands as he waits for Javier to say something. He just keeps looking at him, his eyes all big and full of something. “Do you-Do you like it?” 

“I love you.” 

Steve laughs drily. “That wasn’t-What?”

“I love you.” Javier’s out of his seat and crowding against Steve in a second, sealing their lips together. Steve let’s out a small noise of surprise but threads his fingers through Javier’s hair in an instant. Both their lips taste like chicken pesto and garlic bread, but that doesn’t stop Javier from sliding his tongue into Steve’s open mouth. He smells like pine and patchouli, and it makes Javier’s head dizzy as he pulls away from him with a small whimper. 

Steve sucks in a breath as he looks at Javier. At his cute mustache and the damn lines on his forehead. “I asked you about the cake.”

Javier huffs a laugh. “I know. You just-God you are really something else and that thought just overtook me. But I do. I do like your cake, and I do love you.”

Steve hides his smile behind his hand. “That’s good then. I was going to ask if you wanted to stay over and watch a movie.” When Javier nods, Steve takes his head in his again and kisses those damn lines on his forehead. The lines of worry and the lines of stress. “I love you as well Javi.” 

“Do you want to share the cake on the couch?” 

Steve thinks about it for a moment. “Will you lay with me after?” 

Javier’s face sags in affection. “Of course.”

They feed each other bites of the lumpy uneven cake sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch while a Western plays on the TV. Steve was lucky enough to find something in English. 

When they're all satisfied from dessert, Steve sets the plate on the coffee table and lays across the the length of the couch. Javier climbs in on top of him, using Steve’s chest as a pillow and rests his hands on the warm smooth skin under that pale blue shirt. 

Javier soon determines that Steve really does care. 

With a kiss to his forehead and a hand through his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you like!!
> 
> Tumblr: pedromiamor


End file.
